Oldies But Goodies {Put This One on Your TBR List} From Below by Darcy Coates by Karen S. Wiesner

 

Oldies But Goodies

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

From Below by Darcy Coates

by Karen S. Wiesner 

  Beware spoilers! 

From Below is an aquatic horror novel by Australian author Darcy Coates, published in 2022. I'm fond of all fictional tales, regardless of how far-fetched, concerning the Loch Ness monster and kraken and other supernatural deep-ocean creatures, submarines, diving, underwater caves, and spelunking in general. What's not to love? I've ravenously consumed stories similar to this and consistently wanted to find more like it. I didn't actually realize that there was a full-on, named genre around the theme of "aquatic horror" until I read this one, though, and I eagerly went searching for more like it. 

From Below has got a plot that's been done often before, in which a ship has mysteriously sunk and disappeared, almost always taking countless human lives with it. Decades later, someone gets the idea of finding it and trying to puzzle out what happened. From Below is no different. In this particular take on the same-old, same-old, it's the SS Arcadia that disappeared sixty years before. It was touted as an unsinkable ship (seriously, shipbuilders really need to stop calling their creations unsinkable). The wreckage is discovered by submarines more than three-hundred miles from its intended route. A documentary filmmaker, Cove Waimarie, puts together a team of divers. A historian provides insight into the sunken ship. The goal is to film what's found and maybe, in the process, uncover the mystery behind the ship's unexplained disappearance. In addition to Cove as leader, the diving team members include those who'll operate the camera, a diving expert, and a biologist. Naturally, everyone involved has dirty little secrets they'd rather not have anyone else unearth, but good luck with that. Merging with each subsequent deep-dive, descent to the wreckage of the ship, the story of the original 1928 crew is woven. The tension is heightened in the intermingling as the unearthly horrors are unveiled and come out to play in their murderous manner in the claustrophobic environment. The time clock of limited air during dives and what will happen if divers surface too quickly really added to the escalating (sorry for the pun) suspense. 

So I've read a handful of Darcy Coates books now. By all rights, I should adore them. She consistently doles out supernatural tales that lean toward a horror edge, which is my favorite type of fiction. She's also an undisputedly competent author. I have no complaints about her writing skills. All that said, I've just never read anything by her that screams "unique take" on a frequently done story. Instead, all the offerings I've read by her are everything you'd expect from a book of that type, but not in a way (that I feel) is particularly compelling. In all honestly, I'm not sure if From Below is actually any better than other aquatic horror stories either. I just know I enjoyed it a lot, perhaps in large part because I'm a fanatic fan of deep-diving, underwater horror in my fiction. See my previous reviews for Caitlin Starling's The Luminous Dead and "Caver, Continue" and Michael Crichton's Sphere, all of which feature some of the most unique aquatic horror fiction telling I've encountered thus far.

The subject matter in From Below is what convinced me to try it. It came up as an audiobook on one of my library apps, so I borrowed it and listened to it compulsively for a week or so. Interestingly, the narrator of the audiobook was Abby Craden, who's a versatile voice artist in a variety of mediums. The strange/cool part was that at the time I was just randomly replaying one of my favorite videogames, Kingdoms of Amalur: Re-Reckoning Fatesworn Edition. Abby Craden is the voice of Alyn Shir in that game. I didn't know this at first, but, while listening to the audiobook of From Below, I kept feeling like I knew that voice somehow. That's when I checked it out and discovered the connection. Craden does a fantastic job reading From Below. I even turned the speed down from 1.75 (which is what I almost always listen to audiobooks at because otherwise it's too long and drawn out; I usually have no trouble understanding fast-talking and following the story this way) to 1.50 to better savor it. 

However, the one problem I had with the audiobook version of this story is that I was overwhelmed with too many characters to keep track of and I wanted to get them sorted out to better enjoy the complexity. For that reason, I decided to purchase a mass-market paperback copy of the book (which was dirt-cheap) so I could "re-read" it and catch all the things I missed out on with the audiobook reading. 

While it could certainly be true that I just love this genre so much that I'd like any story in it, I thought Coates provided a well-rounded take on a frequently done plot. All the characters were fully-fleshed out, and the entities that overtook the SS Arcadia were convincing. The melding of past and present filled the book with nail-biting tension. Are there other and better variations on this theme? Sure, probably. But this one ticked all the boxes for me. I'm certain you'll see more reviews by me in this genre in the future. In the meantime, I recommend From Below as a good one in a sea of cleverly reimagined aquatic horror tales. 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of 156 titles and 16 series. 

Visit Karen here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

{Put This One on Your TBR List} Book Review: Silent Tongues and The Church Beneath the Roots by Felix Blackwell by Karen S. Wiesner

 

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Book Review: Silent Tongues and The Church Beneath the Roots

by Felix Blackwell

by Karen S. Wiesner 

 

Beware spoilers! 

I'm always on the lookout for interesting audiobooks to listen to when I'm doing other things. I stumbled upon Stolen Tongues by Felix Blackwell in my library app. It was released in 2017. A newly engaged couple, Felix and Faye, head up the remote, windswept cliffs of Pale Peak to her parents' cabin and, naturally, in a horror novel, instead of romance, they encounter a menacing, supernatural being and creepy voices. Before long, a winter storm inadvertently cooperates with bad medicine and refuses to allow them to leave. It quickly becomes clear to Felix that the creature stalking them is familiar to Faye, a sleepwalker who begins whispering back to the shadows. The dark entity is trying to communicate with her. She claims she doesn't remember it, but her subconscious mind has blocked out the truth in more ways than one. "The Hollow One" is searching desperately for Faye's answer to the question, What makes five? 

This 320-page self-published novel was originally, as the author tells it, a contest-winning story on Reddit's NoSleep community of horror lovers. How the subject matter dealt with Native American culture, folklore, and the corresponding mythology was the most interesting part to me, though I found it a bit odd that the author named the book's main character after himself, almost as if he was making it an autobiography. Incidentally, the author is not of Native American descent, if anyone's wondering. 

The main characters in Stolen Tongues were drawn well enough. The most compelling of them was a guy with the last name of Lopez (more about him later) from the nearby Cold Valley Indian Reservation. Apparently the book has been optioned for a movie, which I believe would make the most of the material. The audiobook version I listened to was, unfortunately for me, narrated by J.S. Arquin, author (A.C. Arquin), voice actor, and audiobook narrator among wearing other hats. I admit, I had trouble with his halting way of speaking, though I think other listeners wouldn't have minded it. He reminded me of Mordin Solus https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mordin_Solus from the Mass Effect franchise. This character within the videogames is a favorite of mine, known for his fast-talking, halting manner and irresistibly unique dialogue. Frequently, the main character in the game has the option of cutting Mordin off because, once he gets going, he becomes almost unlistenable. While this was so creative and fun in that world, to have to listen to it over the course of 300+ pages got to be a bit much for me. 

That said, Stolen Tongues did hold my interest just enough to get through it. My favorite line was, "I suppose that if you speak long enough into the void, someone is bound to start listening." I will note, however, that the posing of the question "What makes five?" fairly early in the story was the kiss of death for me, as a writer. I guessed the entire plot just based on three little words, so everything that came afterward lacked suspense and true impact. 

 

When I went searching for more in this world, I found that the author had written a prequel that included Lopez (or his dad)* from Stolen Tongues and set long before the events of the previous story. The Church Beneath the Roots, released in 2024, is nearly 350 pages and is touted as "Silent Tongues, Book 2", though it's more accurately dubbed Part .5. 

*Note that I'm going to 'fess up here and tell you that I don't generally listen carefully while reading audiobooks unless they're really, really good (and if they're really, really good, I tend to run out and buy the version of the book that has actual words in it even before I finish the audiobook of it). Audiobooks are background noise to me. They fill space during a time I'm doing something else more important. If I continue listening all the way to the end, I consider it a win despite that I miss a lot. I'm okay with missing things if it's not a book that grabs hold of me and demands rapt attention. That said, this is becoming a growing annoyance of mine concerning audiobooks--there are too many shortcomings. In particular, the inability to look at the words, to flip back and find sections easily to review and verify I'm absorbing details and plot angles correctly. 

Between these two books, the author provided presumably authentic Native American names for his tribal members. Shortsightedly, though, he chose to name two of his characters with designations too similar. Onwé (verified spelling) is pronounced "On-way" and Twé (no idea how to spell it) is pronounced "Tee-way". I believe the author explained something about either of those names in Silent Tongues--though it went by too fast, and I'll never find that section of the audiobook now to verify it. Anyway, in The Church Beneath the Roots, I believe Onwé was the father of Twé, who was a character in Silent Tongues. Or vice versa. I've lost all track of this and, because it's an audiobook, the only option to correct the problem would be to 1) try to track down a book version of it with words in it, 2) to listen to both audiobooks all over again (and that ain't happenin'!) , or 3) just be confused. 

Conclusion: So I chose to be confused and never find out the truth of which was the son and which was the dad. I should probably consider not using audiobooks for my reading because this is becoming a serious problem for me. In any case, for the remainder of this review, I'll use both names because I don't really know anymore whether it was Onwé and Twé in either book. I accept the blame for this situation because I wasn't listening as closely as I should have been, but a chunk of the problem is actually the medium. 

Seeing his people abandon the Old Way by flocking to the local church, Onwé (or Twé) finds himself struggling, especially when a plane crash brings an unexpected stranger to the rez with horror stories to tell. Decades ago, Onwé's (or Twé's) childhood friend vanished. An ancient creature lurks in the night, terrorizing the tribe. Nearby caves bring terrifying whispers. Onwé (or Twé) finds himself lured there with the promise of having everyone he's lost returned to him. The origin of "The Hollow One" is explored in this horror tale. 

As I did its predecessor, I listened to the audiobook, this one narrated ably by Gary Tiedemann. What I enjoyed most was how the author pulled together the tragic reality of history with different indigenous tribes, forced to dwell together in a mishmash on a reservation, where freedom of religion is allowed only if the lawmakers get to choose the faith, into a tale of horrifying folklore. It's not easy to reconcile the unfairness of life on a day to day basis but, add an ancient evil into the mix, and you've really got something provoking and entertaining. 

If you're looking for diverting tales of supernatural myth, this pair of surprisingly well-written, self-published books should satisfy, but I highly recommend reading the ebook or paperback versions instead of audiobooks to avoid any confusion caused by the characters' names. 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of 156 titles and 16 series. 

Visit Karen here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

{Put This One on Your TBR List} Book Review: The Faith of Beasts (The Captive's War, Book 2) by James S. A. Corey by Karen S. Wiesner

 

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Book Review: The Faith of Beasts (The Captive's War, Book 2)

by James S. A. Corey

by Karen S. Wiesner 

  Beware spoilers! 

The authors James S. A. Corey--made up of writers Daniel Abraham and Ty Franck--of The Expanse (you can read my in-depth review by typing the series name in the search box) have started a new trilogy called The Captive's War. The first installment was The Mercy of Gods published in August 2024 along with "Livesuit", the first novella for the series, released October 2024. Read that particular review here: https://aliendjinnromances.blogspot.com/2025/01/put-this-one-on-your-tbr-list-book.html. 

The newest novel is The Faith of Beasts, Book 2, published in April 2026. In this science fiction space opera, the Carryx are a hival empire that's been conquering worlds for centuries. Borg-like (actually, on second thought, it reminds me more of the Reapers in the Mass Effect franchise; find out more about that race of evil aliens at this link: https://aliendjinnromances.blogspot.com/search?q=Mass+effect), they destroy or enslave, ever in search of those they can use to continue their totalitarian dominion in the universe. Once the alien enemies conquer slaves, they force them to learn how to survive the best they can in a hostile environment. At the end of the last book, an attempt to break free is made and fails utterly. Their captors again subjugate those that survive, requiring they prove their worth or be destroyed. 

My review of this newest installment is little different than my review of the first. That initial offering felt long and tedious to me, with a lot of characters I didn't find particularly interesting. Not much has changed here. At the end of Part 3 within The Faith of Beasts, I thought something exciting was about to happen, hinted at in the closing sentence there. Alas, no, not really. The story passed into Part 4, and I was still searching for a compelling reason to continue for more of a reason than that it was the only audiobook I was interested in on my library app. When I was more than halfway through listening to this book, I read the back cover blurb and thought, Huh, is that what it's about? As I said, Book 2 didn't seem all that much different than the second half of Book 1. 

I do find it interesting the parallels that can be extracted from this scenario in terms of real-life war and occupation--the instinct for survival, the considerations for rebellion, the adjustments that need to be made to relearn life and day-to-day functioning when you're compelled into a situation and amongst beings you don't understand. The protagonist, Dafyd, is a futuristic Daniel figure (as described by the authors) who's carried off by the enemy, along with a bunch of other humans, and put in charge of making them all somehow useful to their captors. Beyond that, though, true enjoyment wavered for the majority of my listening to the audiobook. 

While a part of me wonders if finishing out this trilogy is worthwhile, I'm two books in at this point. Might as well finish it out. Also, I loved the authors' previous series, The Expanse, so much, I'm willing to endure whatever comes my way to reach the end of this comparably much shorter (and very inferior, IMHO) series. 

At the time of this writing, there isn't much being reported about when the third book will be released. Risingshadow.net (a dedicated platform for speculative fiction) mentions 2026 as the year for a next publication in this series, which may actually be for the second novella. As The Expanse did in that particular universe, this trilogy of novels is also supported by standalone novellas that expand on the various aspects of the Carryx Empire, existing technology employed within the galaxy, and a broader view of the interstellar conflict that surrounds the characters. "Livesuit" was released just after Book 1, and, following the release of Book 2, Amazon began touting an upcoming second novella on the way, as yet untitled. Additionally, nothing new has been announced concerning the television series in development based on this trilogy by Expanding Universe, a multi-platform content company headed by the authors themselves (among others). 

A few weeks after I listened to the audiobook of The Faith of Beasts, my place in line for the ebook version came up on my library app and I checked it out. I wondered if reading the book might give me a significantly different experience than I had with the audiobook. It's true that I find I miss so much with audiobooks. By reading the text yourself, if you have a question, you can just turn back a few pages and seek out an answer. With an audiobook, it would require listening to whole sections again to locate what you missed, which can quickly turn into a hassle. Unfortunately, after a half dozen chapters in the ebook, I found I wasn't enjoying it any more than I had listening to the story being read to me, so I abandoned the endeavor. I don't know if I just don't care for this particular series by these talented authors, or I'm just not in the mood for it at this point in time. Either could be the case. 

Well, my conclusion is that, if you're a fan of the authors and particularly liked Book 1 in this series and/or the first standalone novella for it, there's no reason not to pick up this installment. I'm still hoping maybe, once more offerings are available, the series will eventually culminate into something exciting.

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of 156 titles and 16 series. 

Visit Karen here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

 

Oldies But Goodies {Put This One on Your TBR List} Book Review: Guignol & Other Sardonic Tales by Orrin Grey by Karen S. Wiesner

 

Oldies But Goodies

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Book Review: Guignol & Other Sardonic Tales by Orrin Grey

by Karen S. Wiesner

  

Guignol & Other Sardonic Tales by Orrin Grey was published in 2018. This collection of 14 very weird stories is unlike almost anything I've ever read before. By the way, Guignol is a French hand puppet. In fiction, the word has come to be associated with a sensational, gruesome tale. 

It would be difficult to describe this anthology of stories individually because they're so short and strange, so, although I liked more than a few of them (very odd for me when it comes to a short story collection!), I can't really go in-depth about any one of them without giving away too much. 

In the general sense, these tales are all what I would consider very small vignettes. What you'll get is a slice of a life: Nothing came before that isn't told rather than shown, and, in some cases, there's little by way of follow-up or indication where it might go from there. It is nothing more, nothing less than what you see in the here and now--that's all you get. For that reason, there is very little depth to them. You'll never get to know the characters, settings, or situations any more than what's included in these few words. It's like you get a glimpse of something and then you're thrust out; you walk away because there's nothing else you can do. Whether a memory of what you've witnessed lingers on after that point is moot. I suspect the author would enjoy at least part of that description of his work very much. Honestly, none of this is an insult. It's more of a heads up of what to expect and an invitation, no RSVP necessary. You really do have to experience this set of stories yourself to get the full impact.

Contained within Guignol & Other Sardonic Tales were more than a few stories that harkened back to H. P. Lovecraft (complete with the tell-you-the-outcome-before-the-event format). I loved the Choose Your Own Adventure offering "A Circle That Ever Returnth In". "Haruspicate or Scry" was another standout. In that particular account, there's a hilarious reference to college students picking apart a story by a professor, praising his imagery and drawing parallels, to which the teacher responds (like he's impatiently embarrassed by the attention), "I was just writing about a damn pear." I've said similar things myself dozens of times while debating allegory in fiction with those who seem to enjoy reading into everything--just never with Orrin's simple but evocative hilarity.

If you like horror, fantasy, and the strange in your stories, this anthology is definitely one to gobble up in a single sitting. The author has several other fiction collections to choose from as well, so you don't have to stop at just one. 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of 156 titles and 16 series. 

Visit Karen here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

{Put This One on Your TBR List} Review of Wolf Worm by T. Kingfisher Paired With Karen Wiesner's Botanical Artwork by Karen S. Wiesner

 

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Review of Wolf Worm by T. Kingfisher

Paired With Karen Wiesner's Botanical Artwork

by Karen S. Wiesner 

  Beware: May contain unintended spoilers! 

T. Kingfisher (the pen name of Ursula Vernon) is a versatile author, illustrator, and artist. Her novel Wolf Worm, published in March 2026, is exactly the kind of gothic fiction I love--you know, without the needy, pretty--according to her own assessment--damsel in distress who gets sucked into a life-threatening situation that seems supernatural on the surface (but, like every episode of Scooby Doo, isn't). Oh, and she makes everything worse with her stupidly romantic nature and need to be rescued by a big, strong man. 

A little background about this tangent I'm going off on: A few months ago, I was looking for a new audiobook to get interested in and stumbled across the 1966-1972 Dark Shadows book series, credited to Marilyn Ross (one pseudonym of W. E. D. Ross, an actor, playwright, and author of more than three-hundred novels!). The thirty-three books in this series were gothic romances (that dealt with an actual vampire and other monsters), but not what I consider particularly good ones. In any case, the first volume, Dark Shadows, was flat-out painful to listen to. This obviously male author didn't understand the first thing about women, and it showed. I can't tell you how many times we were given a physical description of the female lead somewhere along these slightly exaggerated lines: "Victoria brushed aside her thick, luscious locks of perfectly-coiffed hair surrounding her hauntingly beautiful, heart-shaped face." Give me a break. Every man in the vicinity was attracted to this goddess, but she had eyes only for the psycho-villain-or-dashing-hero? widower of the piece. Nothing could convince her to save herself. Alas, this was just the tip of the iceberg on the type the gothic fiction I despise. 

In subtle contrast, the basic formula of a really good gothic romance is a strong, smart woman (who's probably passably attractive but the reader isn't beat over the head with descriptions of her world-stopping, leave-no-male-unaffected beauty) who finds herself in unfortunate circumstances. She's forced to go to an isolated property where something sinister is going on and usually has been for decades. While she might ultimately fall in love with the main suspect, the romance is secondary to the creepy setting and mysterious events that have usually been unsolved and that she has to investigate and resolve before dire harm comes to her. This is a worthy heroine who saves not only herself but the others around her as well as the day. 

That's exactly what T. Kingfisher has brilliantly given us in Wolf Worm, set in 1899. Sonia Wilson is a thirtysomething botanical illustrator. Kingfisher is herself an extremely talented artist, and, given my own love of rendering plants in art form, I just soaked up everything creative she offered in this tale. The easy knowledge of the author made her main character so authentic and compelling. Sonia's father was a renowned scientist, something she aspires to, but, after he died, she was left to make her own living in whatever way she could, as most orphaned "spinsters" were forced to in that time period. Eventually, she's offered the job of illustrating Dr. Halder's insect collection on his reclusive manor property in the woods of North Carolina. Other characters are the lovable housekeeper, Rose, and her significant other, Jackson, who also works on the estate. The preacher also inserts himself into Sonia's life after her arrival. A local healer called "Ma" something also helps Sonia when oddball things begin to happen. 

Woodland animals are acting very strangely, doing impossible things that normal animals just can't do, the household chicken coop is being robbed every night, and Dr. Halder is sneaking around in the forest after dark. There are local whispers of "blood thieves" compounded by the unsolved mystery of Halder's wife's fate. She'd cheated on him, and Halder supposedly dispatched the homewrecker--justifiably, according to some members of the local population, who "don't brook with no infidelity". The real horror in this story is Dr. Halder's life's work--parasitic maggots that burrow into human flesh. I'm not a person who likes even thinking about things like this. My whole body revolts and feels like it's been invaded by horrible things that I can't even see. Long, hot, rubbed-raw showers ensue and endless hours are wasted on feeling like I'm going insane with the itching dread. (Let's face it, it's scientific fact that we do have things crawling all over us that we'd prefer not to consider let alone believe are there.) Ugh! Don't think about it. Do not start thinking about it. Whatever you do, donotthinkaboutthisplease! 

Yeah, so Kingfisher forces us to not only think about it but to watch the horror happening in Wolf Worm in slow motion. 

I have to admit, more than once, I had to go back to the audiobook I was listening to of Wolf Worm and make sure it was, in fact, T. Kingfisher, not Caitlin Starling, who'd written this. Everything about this book reminded me of Starling's work, especially The Death of Jane Lawrence (highly recommended--do a search for my review of it on this blog). Starling loves body horror fiction with strong heroines that are also slightly vulnerable, a lot broken, and far too willing to go where no sane woman might. I loved the atmosphere, the creepiness, the compelling secondary characters that really rounded out this story and made it something I couldn't stop listening to in the course of just a couple days. 

I will also add that I really would have preferred to read the book version of Wolf Worm (hard copy, though ebook would have been okay, too), but, as I'd asked to be notified of the release of any version of this book on my library app, I was glad to practically be the first in line when it became available. I liked the way the narrator made the voices fit the locale the story is set in. I do want to read a copy of the book at some point, though, because I've definitely noticed that I miss a lot with an audiobook versus reading the book myself. I'd also like to own the hard cover of Wolf Worm. It's absolutely worthy to join my collection of other T. Kingfisher print editions. 

In summary, run, don't walk, to get a copy of this book as soon as possible. If this is your kind of gothic fiction, you won't regret it. 

And, just because, here's a couple of my own fledgling botanical illustrations, both with and without color, which I'm certain are nowhere near as wonderful as anything Sonia and/or Kingfisher would produce. Looking at them again puts me in mind of the coming spring and summer growing season and the plants I'm hoping to photograph, sketch, and/or color this year. 

  Rosebud in Vase Sketch @ Karen Wiesner 

  Leaf & Twig Texture in Colored Pencil @ Karen Wiesner

  Scarlet Poppies and Summer Berries in Colored Pencil @ Karen Wiesner 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of 156 titles and 16 series. 

Visit Karen here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

Oldies But Goodies {Put This One on Your TBR List} Silo Series by Hugh Howey by Karen S. Wiesner

 

Oldies But Goodies

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Silo Series by Hugh Howey

by Karen S. Wiesner

 

 

Beware potential spoilers! 

Silo is a series of dystopian novellas and short stories that are commonly packaged as three separate, interconnected novels. In 2011, Howey self-published a short story called "Wool" as a Kindle title. Later, four sequel novellas with the same name were released; these were at one point considered Books 1-5 and named "Holston", "Proper Gauge", "Casting Off", "The Unraveling", and "The Stranded". They became a single book later. As of March 2013, Simon & Schuster purchased the print rights (apparently Howey turned down extremely lucrative offers from various publishing houses in order to retain his right to continue online distribution of this series). The second set of shorts were Books 6-8 titled "Legacy", "Order", and "Pact". All the parts of these stories became packaged as two novels in the Silo Series: Wool, Book 1 and Shift, Book 2. A third novel followed, Dust, (published in 2013) which was intended to conclude the series. 

In Wool, we're introduced to the concept of silos--subterranean cities each with 144 floors that are meant to be self-sustained by those living in them. This populace was never meant to become aware of the existence of other silos. In this way, humanity was meant to keep a host safe from the uninhabitable world above-ground. But are any of these true? Occasionally, someone starts to wonder and maybe even investigate the truth of a series of anomalies, invariably leading to an uprising, or, even worse, a person utters the taboo words of wanting to venture outside to see for themselves what's out there. The punishment for such behavior is banishment. In other words, they're exiled to death. Alas, they're first expected to clean the silo's external sensors. Ha! I may have said, "You've got a prayer" or "Make me" to such a ludicrous order. 

There are a host of intriguing characters introduced in the first novel, but the most important of them is Juliette Nichols, a mechanic from Silo #18 who becomes the mayor. She's not one to ignore obvious treachery. Before long, she's hot on the trail of a conspiracy that goes back for unimagined decades, maybe even centuries. When Juliette realizes nothing is as it seems inside this place and that they're only one of many such environmental constructs, she's driven outside by conspirators to clean. She's not expected to survive. But she does and she manages to make it to a nearby silo--#17--where she meets a survivor of an uprising. 

Shift, Book 2, is a prequel, where we learn where this conspiracy began, leading to the building of these silos, and the horrors done to the world to save a worthy (rich and powerful) minority. 

The final book, Dust, combines the characters from the first two books. 

I've always been intrigued by the idea of the bulk of humanity living underground for a variety of reasons ranging from escaping a hostile environment on the surface to unseen-by-most pocket worlds, and anything you can think of in-between. This certainly isn't a new idea. Philip K. Dick's 1964 sci-fi The Penultimate Truth (along with other works by him) explored the concept, and countless other authors from Verne to Burroughs to the more modern Suzanne Collins, Neil Gaiman, and R. A. Salvatore have come up with creative twists on the theme. 

I was looking for audiobooks to check out on my library app and came across this one, which I, at first, thought was a book I'd read in the past--one I still can't remember the name of which has an almost eerily similar premise of everyone living in some kind of silo structure and the leaders are all corrupt. They're told what's outdoor is toxic for them, but this is a lie. I wish I could remember more about that book. Anyway… 

In Wool, I was introduced to a lot of characters at once, but Juliette certainly filled the role of heroine admirably. She was a selfless, capable, noble character worth. I admit I probably wouldn't have finished Book 1 and continued this series if I hadn't been listening to the audio version of it. Shift was a bit harder to get into. It was very difficult for me to want to read about wishy-washy, selfish characters who continue on with horrifying actions even when they know it's the worst thing they can possibly do. While those that did this assumed they'd be saved and be able to live with their own consciences, so long as they were allowed to live, they eventually repented. I have nothing good to say about anyone who would follow a madman just because he's been foolishly and shortsightedly been put in charge. Wanting to succeed in the field of politics is inexcusable as any kind of justification. Yet that's what we got from the self-absorbed characters in Shift. Even when they turned around and started fighting the Powers That Be, it was hard for me to look at the train wreck of gore left behind by the selfish and entitled. All that considered, I didn't particularly feel any compassion for the characters in this novel. Nevertheless, I persevered to the end anyway in hopes of coming full circle with Juliette, and I did in Dust, where those from Books 1 and 2 come together and begin fighting to save what's left of humanity. But first they have to put down the ones that see humanity as nothing more than lesser pawns in their sick popularity contest. 

There is a television series (4 seasons total, available now) made of Silo, currently streaming on Apple TV+. I'd like to watch it someday. There's also a comic book adaptation of the series. The author may also be working on a spinoff to tell the story of Silo 40. The first of the trilogy was supposed to be released in 2025. If you're interested, you may be able to find out more on his website. 

I highly recommend securing audiobooks of this series that offers a compelling vision of a horrifying future for mankind that, at times, seemed more prophetic than fictional. 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of 156 titles and 16 series. 

Visit Karen here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

Oldies But Goodies {Put This One on Your TBR List} Book Review: The Only One Left by Riley Sager by Karen S. Wiesner

 

Oldies But Goodies

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Book Review: The Only One Left by Riley Sager

by Karen S. Wiesner 

Warning: May contain spoilers! 

I've read and reviewed all of Riley Sager's previous books. Oddly enough, The Only One Left (his 2023 release, the seventh I've reviewed) turned out to be different, at least in that the unreliable narrator card that's been blatant in all his other stories wasn't, for once, played more than a little in this one. Believe me, it was growing stale. I was expecting it--dreaded it, truth be told. I've come to despise books that use this plot device. Because I was so focused on that, I missed the end-of-story twist that I think I would have otherwise seen coming right from the start. Sigh. 

This murder/mystery horror novel actually had a really good premise. Kit is a home health aide, not a nurse (the difference between the two is carefully explained). She was accused of giving her dying mother a fatal overdose and, as a result, her employer has her over a barrel now. She either takes the bad assignment she's handed or she loses her job altogether. The chances of getting another are slim to none because of the mark against her. 

Hope's End is the local decrepit mansion, and shades of The Fall of the House of Usher, along with the Lizzie Borden massacre, are pushed early on. This place is falling into the sea little by little and who'll be left at the end of this tragedy? Everything points to just one--the only one left.

Kit's patient is an elderly invalid who was accused long ago of murdering her family. Lenora Hope is mute and paralyzed other than her left hand, which she uses to type out her story. Lenora's previous nurse left suddenly in the night--or did she? 

I liked the gothic feel of the setting and the trust-no-one, strangling circle of possible culprits. Kit's own past is woven into all this seamlessly. I also love horror stories that turn a schoolyard chant into creepy poetry, as this one did: 

At seventeen, Lenora Hope

Hunger her sister with a rope.

Stabbed her father with a knife.

Took her mother's happy life.

"It wasn't me," Lenora said.

But she's the only one not dead...

While my usual laments cropped up after reading this one (such as that it could have used a serious trim--the hardcover I read had 383 pages; 200 of which could easily have been cropped--and there were too many characters for the author to develop that I had to keep track of), I probably would have liked this Sager novel much more if I'd read it first or second instead of dead last. 

I just got a notice in my inbox that this author has a new release (With a Vengeance came out June 2025, which is when I'm writing this review). Unfortunately, I don't think I'll buy it, though I might read it as an ebook on the Libby library app when it's available. I'm more than a little burned out on the sameness of this particular writer's novels. If you, however, haven't read any of them, this might be the place to start. 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of 156 titles and 16 series. 

Visit Karen here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

{Put This One on Your TBR List} Review of Children's Book Selections by T. Kingfisher/Ursula Vernon or Ode to Sourdough by Karen S. Wiesner

 

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Review of Children's Book Selections by T. Kingfisher/Ursula Vernon

 or

Ode to Sourdough

by Karen S. Wiesner 

  Ursula Vernon aka T. Kingfisher 

Back on December 5, 2025, I posted my first review on the Alien Romances blog featuring four young adult fantasy stories by T. Kingfisher/Ursula Vernon, who is one and the same--a talented author, illustrator/artist, and gardener (which I really appreciate, as I aspire to someday call myself the same). The first book I ever read by her was A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking, in which 14-year-old Mona accidentally creates a sourdough starter "familiar" and later purposely animates gingerbread men and doughboy golem soldiers for an army in her quest to save the city from a corrupt wizard. 

From there, I went on to read and review nearly every book she's written under these two names--and pretty close to back-to-back, which, in retrospect, may have been a bit of a mistake (more on that later). As I've said many times before in my weekly posts, readers can enjoy any level of book they choose. I like children's stories just as much as I do young adult and adult fiction. There's everything to love about this author's children's book selections, regardless of whether they're written under her real name Ursula Vernon or her pen name T. Kingfisher. 

  Recently, I read the ebook of Summer in Orcus by T. Kingfisher. I found that there are two separate editions available (one published by Sofawolf Press with illustrations done by Lauren Henderson instead of the author herself; and another published as free web serial by the author's Red Wombat Tea Company--I'm not sure if Vernon did the illustrations herself for that one but I think she did). Both came out in 2017. This massive children's story (some editions have 386 pages!) features the fabled witch Baba Yaga. Summer is eleven years old and has little in her life that causes her joy, in part because her mother is so overly protective, Summer feels suffocated by her mom's overwhelming fear--of everything. She wants to do something--something unexpected and worthy. For good or ill, the witch sends her to the fascinating world of Orcus to do just that. I loved how bumbling but good-hearted Summer was. She's not quite sure she wanted an actual adventure, but she never wavered in wanting to help those less fortunate than herself--and, ultimately, she doesn't want her mom to worry about her too much (just like Dorothy realizes she doesn't want Auntie Em, who may not understand her but loves her all the same, to suffer without her). 

 Prior to that, I checked out the audiobook of Nine Goblins (manageable at only 161 pages, released in 2013), another Kingfisher children's story, in which a party of goblin warriors, commanded by Nessilka, are trapped behind enemy lines. One way or the other, the sergeant intends to get her people home. The tagline of "low fantasy, high mischief" was fun and captivating, as was the story itself. I expect I would have loved it more when I was younger, as a few of my eclectic favorites included How to Care for Your Monster (Norman Bridwell of Clifford fame); William Steig's one-of-a-kind Shrek!; and anything by Ruth Chew, who wrote about witches instead of the usual array of spoiled princesses, adorable mice who rode motorcycles, giant peaches, or mischievous monkeys--all of which, let's face it, I loved just as well.

Under her real name Ursula Vernon, she's published a whole slew of hybrid children's books/graphic novels/comics she both writes and illustrates: 

  Digger (series) is a wombat engineer trapped in a fantasy world. 

  Dragonbreath (series) features a dragon Danny, who's fielding and figuring out life at a school for reptiles and amphibians. 

  Hamster Princess (series) is a hamster that sits atop her battle quail (in lieu of a white horse, I guess) in twisted fairytale retellings.

 

  Nurk (standalone novel with 145 pages) highlights the (mis?)adventures of an anything-but-brave shrew who nevertheless puts on big-boy-panties and does the best job he's capable of in saving a kidnapped dragonfly prince. 

You quickly learn after you've read a few of this author's books that, regardless of whether she's writing children's or adult fiction, she has distinctive trademarks, namely:

1)    Off-the-wall humor and angsting.

2)    Never-read-anything-like-it-before unique perspectives and secondary characters.

3)    Heartfelt heroism that stems not (necessarily) from skill but from heaps of unflagging determination capable of saving the day (luckily but I'm not entirely sure it's a realistic sentiment).

4)    POV characters (usually female but not always) that are cut from the same cookie cutter--you meet one, you've met them all, and I believe all are based on the author herself. Names, settings, and skills have been altered, sure, but basically the main character "cookie" almost never changes from one book to the next. This author does like that character type almost to the point of it getting overwhelming sometimes because I’ve been reading them all back-to-back. Despite that I love her work, I highly recommend reading a book of hers here and there instead of binge-reading them all at once in the space of a couple weeks or months (as I have and mildly regret).

As a general rule, if you like this author, as I most certainly do, you'll like the majority of her work. If you don't, well, I'm sorry for you, and farewell, there are other writers in the sea. For my part, I became an instant fan with A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking. On that note, a little aside of my own in what I hope is true Kingfisher/Vernon style: 

Ode to Sourdough 

My husband, who's on the cusp of retiring in mid-2026, has decided that now is the perfect time for him to learn how to capture wild yeast, a.k.a. make bread from sourdough starter. We'll be living on a budget soon and bread is cheap. We're both lifelong fans of it. Can't hardly go wrong, right? Well… 

Apparently, this whole sourdough craze became a big trend during the height of the COVID pandemic, but many that started it then have since lost interest. (The luxury of being out and about in the world again is probably a contributing factor there. Who has time?) We didn't get on board then, instead waiting until now. Honestly, I thought I knew what sourdough was but, once I found out it's a way to ferment bread naturally, without commercial, industrially produced baker's yeast, just using the "wild yeast" in the air, I was amazed…and, admittedly, a little grossed out. I couldn't help thinking, "Soylent green is people!", or, more aptly, "Wild yeast is people!", as this lactobacillus bacteria is essentially made up of anything and everything in the natural environment of a household--you guessed it, bacteria, plant, animal, even human stuff. Eww! I just lost my appetite. Seriously. But it's also fascinating. The wild yeast element is what gives sourdough its unique tang. (Does that mean my husband and I have tang? I suppose it does. I repeat myself: Eww.) No two sourdoughs are ever the same, even from one loaf to the next. 

On December 30, 2025, my husband began experimenting and journaling his progress in the art of making sourdough. That night, he asked me what we should name our sourdough. My first thought was, "Ursula Vernon". (T. Kingfisher just doesn't have the same ring in becoming the personality of a sourdough starter--don't ask me why not.) He wrote in his journal that first night that we'd named our baby sourdough starter "Ursula Vernon" and wondered whether it was Ursula's birthday or conception day. He ultimately decided that line of thinking was a bit disturbing and backed way off. 

  Our healthy and happy little Ursula Vernon Sourdough Starter. Isn't she sweet with her belt around her waist, her little cap on? 

There have been a few misstarts, but, as of this writing in late January 2026, Ursula is thriving in her new home in the warmest nook of our dining room. She's produced several very tasty loaves of sourdough bread. My husband has determined that she likes to eat in the morning, and she much prefers to do her rising overnight, baking the next morning in a very rigid and sturdy, tall bread loaf pan rather than any proofing banneton or free-form sheet pan, as she's still much too delicate to be jostled around too much. (We still want to try a Dutch oven though.) 

  Ursula Vernon, Tall and Proud, Caught Loafing, as she should be 

Sourdough starter discards have also become a staple in our household, providing pancakes, muffins, rolls, pizza dough--you name it! My husband likes to say proudly, "If I feed Ursula Vernon, she feeds me." 

Somehow, I think this quirky author who's made herself very much at home at the top of my "to buy" and "to be read" piles would approve. That is my Ode to Sourdough and Ursula Vernon. 

~*~ 

Here both at the end of the author's current selection (which I've mostly read at this point) and at the beginning of a future in which I look forward to reading her new selections, the bottom line is that, whatever you read by T. Kingfisher/Ursula Vernon, whether for children, adults, or somewhere in-between, you'll find wacky, character-driven adventures that are entertaining, incredibly well written, and engaging. Can't hardly go wrong, I'd say. 

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of over 150 titles and 16 series.

Visit her website and blog here: https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/

and https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/karens-quill-blog

Visit her publisher here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/

{Put This One on Your TBR List} Review of Hemlock & Silver by T. Kingfisher by Karen S. Wiesner

 

{Put This One on Your TBR List}

Review of Hemlock & Silver by T. Kingfisher

by Karen S. Wiesner 

   Beware: May contain unintended spoilers! 

T. Kingfisher (the pen name of Ursula Vernon) is a versatile author, illustrator, and artist. Her novel Hemlock & Silver, published in August 2025, wasn't the first Snow White fairytale retelling she wrote. In the "Toad Words and Other Stories" collection (published in 2014), my favorite offering from it was "Boar & Apples", written specifically for the anthology, which contained a character named Snow. (I reviewed that collection recently on the Alien Romances blog.) In "Boar & Apples", Snow's path--in true Kingfisher style--leads her to boars instead of dwarves, but the basic components of the original story of Snow White were evident with a wicked, vain mother; a magic mirror; and a poisoned apple. I have much more to say about "Boar & Apples" but that will come later. First, I've give you a rundown of Hemlock & Silver. 

To begin with, keep in mind that Snow White is not the focus of this particular retelling--the poisoned apple is the star of this show, which is a very interesting twist on the original. In Hemlock & Silver, Anja is a healer, the daughter of a wealthy merchant. Anja will feel very familiar to Kingfisher fans because this is the typical character the author defaults to almost without fail--basically, you've met one of her heroines and you've met all of them (and I think all are based on the author herself). No big deal there. When someone Anja cared about died of poisoning while she was a child, her plight to find cures to poisons drove her to study and learn and, yes, poison herself in hopes of finding answers that might save other people. When the king of the land she lives in comes to her, begging her to cure his dying daughter, Snow, Anja can't refuse him (and not just because merchant daughters don't refuse kings). Note that, while I can't prove it, the world this story seems set in is similar (another region of?) to Kingfisher's World of the White Rat stories (which includes Swordheart, The Clocktaur War, and The Saint of Steel series). 

I'd say nearly a third of the book detailed the long and tedious journey to get Anja to the king's secluded "summer home" (not the palace) in the desert, where his daughter is convalescing. During that long trek, Anja spends a lot of time thinking about her pursuit of seeking cures to poisons. She grows close to her two bodyguards, Aaron and Javier. Honestly, at first I was convinced which of those bodyguards was slated to be Anja's love interest, though later it's the opposite one that becomes her partner in crime and the focus of the romantic interest she wrongly believes he doesn't want from her. (A silly misunderstanding intended to keep them apart.) 

Once they arrive at the house in the desert, there are a lot of "looking for answers" pages in the book. Despite how I'm describing these first two parts, there wasn't anything specifically boring about it all. I enjoyed the story almost all the way through. But I will say the pace was extremely slow-moving, and there didn't seem to be a whole lot happening during a big chunk of time. I began to fear Anja was going to have to pack up and leave Snow to her fate until, in a convoluted bit of unrealistic and unfathomable clumsiness, Anja is chasing a one-eyed, narcissistic cat and ends up crashing into the big, creepy mirror in her room. From that point on, her hunt for answers turns to exploring the secret, dark realm beyond the magic mirror, where monsters could be allies and those you trust may well prove to be enemies. 

So I'll admit it: My favorite part of this story was the romance between Anja and one of her bodyguards, which is something I never thought I'd say when it comes to Kingfisher love stories. Her other offerings in this genre tend to be riddled with too many strained obstacles and "we want to, but we can't" blockades in advancing what, bottom line, is an incredibly awkward relationship--yet there's usually something sweet and wonderful about it anyway. There is a touch of that angsting here, as well, but luckily it wasn't overwhelming this time. 

I will also state that the last twenty-five pages or so, as the mystery was finally being solved and answers were served up, felt just a little muddled to me. Overall, I think this particular story needed a more visual medium to adequately portray it. The mirror aspects were tricky, and, for all her words, I don't think the author did an overwhelmingly thorough job of describing what was going on with and inside them. I frequently felt like I was given little or nothing familiar enough to make her explanations plausible so I could grasp the mind-picture she was trying to conjure by throwing a lot of detail at me. However, that said, I was very satisfied by the conclusion of the story. I wouldn't mind if the author gave us more of Anja, her new love interest, and her snake and rooster pets--and maybe the not-quite-a-cat can tag along, too. I'd be interested if Kingfisher wants to tell Anja's sister's story. Or Aaron's. Hint, hint! 

Now, on to more about Kingfisher's other Snow White offering. At the time I was reading "Toad Words", I realized Hemlock & Silver was also a Snow White reimagining and, given that there was a character named Snow in it, I (naively) assumed there must be a connection between the two stories. More than that, I was hoping there would be a connection. I spent more than half of Hemlock & Silver convinced that "Boar & Apples" must be a prequel to it. It seemed possible that the father of Snow, who was absent for most of "Boar & Apples" (off trying to locate a new wife who could bear him a male heir) returned just in time to find out his current wife (Snow's wicked mother, who was influenced by the demonic mirror) had poisoned and tried to murder their only daughter. Snow, at one point after eating the poisoned apple, had gone into a kind of coma that her winsome swine friends feared she'd never wake from. Hemlock & Silver dovetailed into that. 

Interestingly, a friend of mine had recently read Hemlock & Silver before I did, and, when I mentioned to her that I'd originally thought it was the sequel to "Boar & Apples", a lively discussion ensued between us. She went back and re-read the short story, something she hadn't done in years, concluding she didn't see any link between the two stories, and they had a vastly different "feel" to her. I'm convinced the reason for that is a direct correlation to the order in which we read them. I agreed that, having read the novel first (and not having read the short story in many years), it made sense that she saw no ties to the previous story and therefore no thought was given to the two of them being connected. I, on the other hand, had read both recently and the short story was read first, the novel not too long afterward. I myself didn’t notice a hugely drastic feel between the stories in the order I read them in, in part because I assumed Hemlock & Silver was being told from a new point-of-view, continuing where the short story left off previously--with Snow in some kind of coma. I assumed from there that Anja would then heal her. I admit, the ending of “Boar & Apples” didn’t make a lasting impact on me. I can’t remember and/or I simply couldn’t understand in the reading of it (the latter strikes me as more probable) whether Snow ever woke up from eating the poisoned apple in the short story. All these elements pooled together spelled "sequel" to me when I went to read Hemlock & Silver. Ultimately, it was the mention of a younger sibling in Hemlock & Silver that made me realize the two stories probably weren't connected. Aww! 

To be clear, I’m not bothered that the author took the same fairytale and retold it twice. I enjoyed both "Boar & Apples" and Hemlock & Silver, so there’s no reason for me to be upset about that. A reviewer on Goodreads posted an irate diatribe about the author "recycling" the Thornhedge plot within Hemlock & Silver. I wasn't persuaded that actually was the case, or, more to the point, whether it mattered if the two stories did include similar elements. How different is it, really, to, say, write about vampires your whole career or various renditions of "Snow White"? Each can be unique in their ways, despite having a similar touchstone that crops up in each one. Even if Kingfisher did reuse a subplot element from one book to the next, I believe she put a fresh spin on it in each. 

No, what I did take issue with was that it seemed to me the author either purposely or accidentally created a lot of similarities and/or ties between her two "Snow White" stories--even beyond the theme of them both being based on the same fairytale retelling. The opportunity for connection seemed possible with "Boar & Apples" and Hemlock & Silver, like the author was reaching toward an obvious connection, then, at the last minute, she yanked the thread that could have brought them together harmoniously. A part of me felt set up by the author for disappointment because of this. As a reader, I yearn for links between an author’s stories--the more the better! Beyond that, I would love to understand what drove Kingfisher to write a second version of the original fairytale premise; whether Hemlock & Silver was borne out of some sense on the author's part that "Boar & Apples" didn't satisfy her Snow White craving in one way or another; or if all this was just random chaos in the life of a writer. 

Additionally, in nearly every Kingfisher book I've ever read, she's included an afterword, telling readers what inspired the story that may or may not include connections with past, present, or future offerings. The author did include an afterword in Hemlock & Silver, but there she talked about the feline inspiration, along with some other things that had nothing to do with the first Snow White story she wrote. As a result, the avoidance of "Boar & Apples" came off like side-stepping to me. But, I concede now, that was probably just my own disappointment talking. 

In Kingfisher's defense, she wrote the short story "Boar & Apples" long in advance of Hemlock & Silver (I think anyway--I could be wrong about that, as this author tends to be writing several books simultaneously and some of them take many, many, long years to complete; case in point, Daggerbound, the second Swordheart novel, which I believe the author started just after she finished Swordheart, which was first published in 2018, and will only just be published August 2026). Kingfisher no doubt forgot a lot of what happened in "Boar & Apples", remembered badly, or clean forgot about that story altogether (I suspect that's closest to the case). 

Sigh. Given that I’m reading all Kingfisher's work back-to-back and reviewing them here on the Alien Romances blog, I suppose I'm perceiving things like this that readers who’ve been following her all along (as well as with the author herself) may miss or never see the same way I am—in large part because Kingfisher and her long-time readers haven’t read these older tales recently, so none of my anguish would ever occur to them. I wish it wasn't the case, but all this did affect my overall enjoyment of Hemlock & Silver, though I'm at the stage in my grief where I can admit I'm at fault for the majority of that and not necessarily the author. 

In any case, don't get hung up on these albeit minor dissatisfactions. The vast majority of T. Kingfisher's stories are extremely good. No reader should pass up her unpredictably unique style of making every story a brand-new adventure, unlike anything that's been experienced previously. For that reason, Hemlock & Silver--as well as its unconnected Snow White predecessor "Boar & Apples"--are not to be missed.

Karen Wiesner is an award-winning, multi-genre author of over 150 titles and 16 series.

Visit her website and blog here: https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/

and https://karenwiesner.weebly.com/karens-quill-blog

Visit her publisher here: https://www.writers-exchange.com/Karen-Wiesner/